• I think of him, and my body gets warm. Just now, writing about him, I'm messing with my feet... I look at his avatar and think of him, I think of him and look at his picture. I look at his picture and I get warm, and I rub my thumb against the polaroid, as if I were really rubbing his shoulder.

    I see him, and I look into his eyes... And I can see into his heart. His looks, they don't matter to me. Honestly, I'm not sure if he's cute or not, hot or not, ugly, or not. Closing my eyes as I write this, I know that I just feel... An attatchment to him. More than anything I've ever felt before, and more than anything I've ever read. But what is there to read when all I can see happens to be him?

    I remember first seeing him, and liking him, and ending up to be with him. I also remember seeing other boys before, and liking them before, only to be stood up later on... But the feeling I get with him isn't like the feeling I ever experienced with them. I mean, here we are, thirteen months later, and we're not enemies. I still love him more than ever... There's no, "I don't like him anymore, I like him now!"...

    Happening to be young, I think about this desirably. Are we meant to be? Will we stay together? I mean, I've known him for many years now, and he's known me for just as many.

    But just as I think everything is about to fall apart, just when another girl comes into his life, I look up at him, and he turns from her. He offers his hand to me, not to her, and with this I hope came envy. As the tears run through my veins but not through my eyes, I look at him, smiling, and offering his hand, as if saying, "we won't part anytime soon".

    But then I think... Do I love him? I can share anything and everything with him. I can embarrass myself in front of him, and he'll just giggle and think it's cute (unlike others, who kinda edge it off). When I'm with him, I don't feel like I have to impress anyone. I'm never acting around him... He knows me. He talks to me just as much as I talk to him. He melts in my arms just as much as I melt in his... When I'm hurting, he's always there. When I'm hurting, he helps me through it, shines a light on what matters, and shines a light on what little strip of silver there is in whatever my situation. When I'm hurting... He cares.

    And, when we're close, he wants us to be closer... It doesn't matter what I'm wearing, how I look, or anything... He's just, sentimental. He compliments me, I compliment him, and we share many beliefs and likings. I can't help but laugh at every joke he makes, corny or not... And when I start to giggle at his puppy-dog face, he won't stop making it... To watch me have a good time.

    I remember, as I still stare at his hand longing for a gesture... Our first touch. Our first hug. He had just fractured his arm, and I caught him in his only time of weakness, something everyone else had refused to do. I think he realized this... But once, he was so far into depression, he wouldn't move. It was just... A head on his sunken shoulder and an arm around his chest. I stood there motionless for a minute, then began to rub his chest, reassuringly... What suprised me was to feel his grip on my hand a moment later. I don't know what came over me, I guess... I just felt that we were together then.

    Are we soul mates, or am I in too deep? Have I really lost my mind? These childhood years and memories that I savor come together, as I think of him, and as my body gets warm. As my cheeks turn cherry red, and as the real me comes out.

    Then looking at this hand he's offered, I think to myself... Do I love him? My moment of desperation falls apart, and the real answer rises to the surface... Yes.

    I take his hand, and look into his eyes, and think... I don't care if I'm going crazy and gradually making us more poetic... Now, we're together... And nothing will change.

    We're together now.